


I've been searching for a trail to follow again

by winter_angst



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Angst and Romance, Friends to Lovers, M/M, low calorie angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:20:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25187050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winter_angst/pseuds/winter_angst
Summary: Between Black Water and a letter from Mary Linton, Arthur is looking for escape. Like fate, Albert Mason comes back around.It's not much, but it's enough
Relationships: Albert Mason/Arthur Morgan
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24
Collections: Eat Drink and Make Merry 2020





	I've been searching for a trail to follow again

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kalika999 (kalika_999)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kalika_999/gifts).



> a little gift to my Red Dead Redemption loving pal. 
> 
> tile from The Night We Met by Lord Huron

“I don’t think I can thank you enough, Mr Morgan.” 

Arthur grunted, watching the photographer beginning to carefully take apart his camera. It sure was something, a man like Albert Mason coming all the way to the untamed world of the West just to take pictures. He was well groomed compared to most of the men Arthur happened across. Actually he looked like the kind of man Arthur would rob with Bill for some quick money to appease the increasingly paranoid Dutch.

But for now Arthur wasn’t thinking about camp or Black Water or the letter he’d gotten from Mary Linton. This strange, eager man was a welcome distraction. Nighttime was coming on fast over Elizabeth and Albert didn’t seem to have much camping equipment packed on his horse. 

“I do hope you didn’t hurt that curious creature,” Albert said suddenly, eyes on the satchel of meat that Arthur had retrieved upon their meeting. 

Arthur had considered it when he saw it fleeing, hand resting on his holster. He hadn’t felt like wasting the bullet but now he was glad for it. 

“Nah, that damn thing will keep on scavenging and killin’ chickens.”

“That’s just wonderful Mr Morgan, thank you again so very much.”

Eliza nickered behind him. She was a horse much like her master, eager to go at all times. Standing still was always just shy of torture unles she was tethered in camp surrounded by her fellow herd of outlaw horses. At least that’s what Jack likes to ramble about when Arthur was brushing her fur and cleaning dirt from her hooves. 

“Yer pretty far out from town. You know the area?” Arthur asked gruffly, shifting his weight from one foot to another. 

He wasn’t a good man — he wasn’t even a nice man! — so why he had chased down a coyote for some big city buffoon was beyond him. He knew he should at least take the camera for compensation and tell the camera man that he was a fool. 

Stealin’ and killin’ was what Arthur did. It was why Mary wouldn’t marry him, why he wasn’t there when Isaac died. That anger, that discontent that Arthur used to kindle his drive in a life of an outlaw, on the fringes of society — but right now, standing in front of Albert, he couldn’t find that part of himself. 

“Yer pretty far from town, you gonna be alright?” Arthur asked reluctantly. 

He’d had moments like this before. When he found that lady pinned beneath a horse, when a single mother had begged him for a ride into town. But this felt different.

“Do not worry Mr Morgan, Randolph and I are here for adventure as much as photography. We’ll find our way just fine.”

Arthur humphed a bit at that, dissatisfied by the answer though he couldn’t put a finger on why. “Well if ya say so…”

“I’ve begged your assistance too much for one day, Mr Morgan. Please don’t let me keep you.”

Arthur inclined his head. “Much obliged, Mr Mason.” Arthur glanced towards Eliza who was staring pointedly at him, like she knew he was supposed to be going to Emerald Ranch to meet Hosea. 

“Perhaps I will see you again,” Albert picked up the case, items all packed away. He offered a toothy smile in Arthur’s direction, tawny eyes sparkling with the same untampered excitement he’d had when Arthur had happened upon him.

Arthur snorted a bit. “The West is a big place, Mr Mason.” 

Albert inclined his head looking pensive for a moment before his grin was back in place. “Well, then let us depart with hopes that fate brings us back together.”

Arthur uttered a laugh as he finally swung his body up onto Eliza. “Let’s hope.” 

** ** ** **

Arthur knelt beside the fire, coffee grounds he’d nicked for an empty cabin by Flat Iron Lake in the percolator…also stolen. 

Beside him Albert was still fondly exclaiming about the photos he’d gotten of those damn gators. No sane man would have gone with him on such a ridiculous venture. Tying up Eliza anywhere near the swamp made him wary so he’d left her unhitch certain she wouldn’t stand for being stolen. In fact she got along well with Albert’s horse. 

“I must say, I will never be able to properly thank you. Letting me impose your time and then offering a meal! I must admit to being a bit sick of canned goods.” 

Arthur had suggested a hot meal of oregano prime beef and much to his surprise, and pleasure, Albert had agreed. He ground the herb into a paste against a flat rock and smeared it on the meat while Alber filled him in on the photographs he’d gotten of less intimidating wildlife such as the elk and deer and turkeys. He was very excited about the turkeys. “I do hope to get a shot of a bear at some point,” Albert said in a dreamy tone. “Though I suspect it may be the last thing I’ll ever do!”

“Gotta agree with you on that,” Arthur grunted, stabbing his knife through the piece of meat and holding it over the fire to cook. “They’re some mean sonsabitches.” 

“They have spirit,” Albert agreed. “And what a wondrous spirit it is.” 

Arthur was pretty sure he’d never understand this man. When the meat was done he passed it to Albert who accepted it happily. “I extend all of my thanks towards you Mr Morgan. I do wish you’d accept some compensation.” 

“Your money’s no good to me,” Arthur said firmly, getting back to grinding down the herb. “I got all this goddamn bulrush in my bag. I oughta make some horse medicine for you to take with you -- just in case one of those damned snakes gets you.” 

“They certainly are some sneaky little devils aren’t they?” Albert was still smiling, tone fond. “If it’s no bother I cannot refuse, Mr Morgan.” 

Cooking on the campfire with Albert at his side was a good distraction from the tangled issue of the Braithwaites. Arthur was beginning to question what Duke was thinking. But he didn’t have to worry about that as he bottled the potent horse medicine up. He was here, with a crazy photographer who helped him escape all his problems. When he had freed up space in his bag, they sat together, the sun setting and the fire’s warmth growing all the more comforting. 

“Ah dear, it seems I will have to travel to the hotel in the dark.” 

“You don’t gotta.” Arthur said instantly. “I got a little tent you can use.”

“I will not put you out, Mr Morgan. Perhaps we can share?”

Arthur wanted that. He really, really did. “Alright.” 

Albert tied up the horses while Arthur set up the tent. It was a tight fit for one person, much less two and yet Arthur was damn near shaking with anticipation. They slipped in, back to back because that was what was proper. But then Arthur rolled over, Albert following the motion. Their lips grazed and that was enough to make Arthur bold enough to kiss him. It tasted like beef and oregano and it was hungry. It ended far too soon, their foreheads resting together as they tried to catch their breaths. Arthur knew that it should have felt wrong or dirty but it didn’t. The beard burn on his shaved chin felt, as Albert loved to say, wonderful. 

“I gotta say,” Arthur said quietly, “You can do some funny things to a fella.” 

“I was about to say the same thing to you, Mr Morgan. But I must say, it is a wonderful feeling.” 

Arthur felt himself smile and he pressed his lips back together, Braithwaite, Duke, and Micah a distant memory. Deep down he knew this was temporary but he didn’t care. He would make it last as he could. In the morning they would go back to their fond friendship and nothing more but in the safety of night, they could indulge. 

It wasn’t much, but it was enough.


End file.
